


It Burns

by basilbleu



Series: It Burns [4]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Fire, Fire Powers, Hurt/Comfort, Klance if you squint, Magic, Necromancer Keith, Necromancy, Water, Water Witch Lance, Witchcraft, Witches, blissfully unaware au, fire witch keith, magick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-24
Updated: 2018-10-24
Packaged: 2019-08-06 19:38:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16393916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/basilbleu/pseuds/basilbleu
Summary: “My abilities are fine!”“Tell that to your singed clothing,” Lance countered.“I don’t need a lecture from a waterlogged seer,” he snarled, turning away, planning on making a quick escape to the forest.“Well at least I can control my element. At least I didn’t grow up alone because of it,” Lance icily said.------Lance finds out Keith's magickal secret, but will he accept his friend for who he is or cast him down with the rest of his kind?





	It Burns

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first fic but I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Edit: i rewrote and edited this fic a bit, but didn't change anything too drastic

They have been camped in this valley for a week.

And Keith has had enough.

The bickering, the snappy remarks, and the silent glares all added to his misery of being stuck in a ditch with his friends who were becoming more irritable by the hour.

As high strung as she usually was, Allura’s stress levels have risen exponentially since their arrival. Without any sign of the sought after juniberries, she has resorted to expelling her frustration through orders and demands more fitting for servants than for friends. And though Coran’s pluckley optimism diminishes Allura’s fits, his constant ramblings about how he could _feel_ that the juniberries were close before beginning an unrepeatable tangent with no relation to their search tested Keith’s patience.

Pidge and Hunk constantly wandered off into the forest, which wasn’t unusual, but Keith couldn’t help the way his nerves grated everytime Shiro dragged him from his training to search for their animal-based friends. Of course, he would do anything for his brother, but he had to constantly remind himself to take deep breaths while trekking through the brush as not to catch a dry leaf aflame. Honestly, Shiro usually didn’t worry much about the pair, but this valley was known to attract some unsavory people and though Hunk would be able to take care of them physically, magickally the werewolf and owl familiar wouldn’t stand a chance. Keith understood Shiro’s worry, but he also knew that Pidge and Hunk were smart enough to stay safe, so his damn near constant panic wasn’t something Keith could handle much longer. 

And then there was Lance.

Until recently, they hadn’t gotten along. Constantly bickering and arguing to the point that the rest of their ragtag group had to sit them down and have a serious talk about their volatile relationship had them simmering. Since then, things have cooled. After spending some time avoiding each other, they’ve been rebuilding their relationship, though the snarky remarks and bickering remained. Keith had actually grown used to the back and forth banter, even calmed with the familiar routine. In fact, he’s even laughed at a few of Lance’s jokes.

But despite their caution in this new relationship, this week has turned it to _shit_.

Playful bickering morphed into yelling matches, one of them ending with Keith soaked, Lance’s clothing singed, and Shiro’s face red from yelling at the two to stand down. They had been at each other’s necks and with Shiro interrupting Keith’s training, he had been pent up with frustration and unused aggression… which now led to him storming off while getting an earful from Lance.

“Hey, Mullet! I’m not done talking to you!” he yelled at the steaming teen.

Keith threw a sharp glare over his shoulder and continued to walk ahead, leaving Lance at their camp.

Who the hell did that seer think he was? Ordering Keith to go find Shiro, Pidge, and the rest of the group based off a _feeling_ from his hydromancy. Like water patterns that show a possible future--of an _infinite_ amount--that gave Lance a bad pit in his stomach was any reason for him to once again go searching through the forest. He had had enough of the tears in his clothing and the twigs in his hair. If he’s so worried, Lance can go find them himself.

Keith tore through the forest until reaching the clearing that he has called his training field for the past week. Scorch marks littered it, leaving darkened patches of grass and peeled bark on numerous trees. He marched to the center of the largest piece of burnt grass and released a deafening yell, freeing his pent up anger and frustration and pushing it through his magick. Raging fire erupted from him. It encircled him, licking his skin and dancing across his vision, outwardly consuming him in a fury. He relished in the heat that refused to burn his skin.

Following deep breathes, the flames slowly diminished and withdrew from the clearing, retreating back to Keith’s center. His eyes fluttered open. He released a smoky huff and licked his dry lips, drawing his tongue over its cracks. His chest remained tight.

“Keith!”

He groaned, turning toward Lance who stood at the edge of the clearing as if was scared ground not to be intruded on. Keith could laugh at his hesitance if he wasn’t so angry at the witch. Only Shiro had been brave enough to come to his singed clearing. He thought that Lance would’ve been smart enough not to follow him here.

But apparently he’s more stupid than he looks.

“What?” Keith snarled, crossing his arms. Lance glanced at the blackened tree by his side, frowning, before hurriedly walking up to him with a frantic look.

“You have to listen to me! Something bad is going to happen today. You need to find--”

“No, I don’t!” Keith snapped, stepping right up to the elemental, getting in his face, challenging him. “I don’t need to do anything you tell me to do. Nothing bad is going to happen! Whatever your _water_ told you means nothing. ‘Cause it’s just water!”

Lance’s face twisted up.

“It’s not just water! It’s me! _I’m_ telling you something isn’t right!” he screamed back. “Don’t you dare insult my craft. I trust myself and my abilities. Maybe you should do the same!” He gestured wildly to the way Keith’s hands had started smoking suddenly. Keith quick crossed his arms, hiding his smoldering hands.

“My abilities are fine!”

“Tell that to your singed clothing,” Lance countered.

“I don’t need a lecture from a waterlogged seer,” he snarled, turning away, planning on making a quick escape to the forest.

“Well at least I can control my element. As least I didn’t grow up alone because of it,” Lance icily said.

Keith froze. The accusation should’ve enraged him. He should’ve lashed out. But instead his magick deflated within him, subjecting itself to the truth laid bare with Lance’s cold words and colder stare that pierced Keith’s tight chest.

His tongue felt heavy within his mouth as he tried to deny those words.

“That… You don’t--” he stumbled.

“Don’t what?” Lance snidely questioned. He released a humorless laugh. “Shiro told me. I know that you grew up in the Leo Coven. In the orphanage coven. I’m just trying to keep our family safe, but I guess you wouldn’t know what that’s like. Not without reigning in your ego--”

The words stuck with Keith.

Shiro told him. Shiro--no, he wouldn’t. But Lance said… Lance knew…

But there’s no way Shiro would have told him everything about that night, right? If he had, Keith wouldn’t be here. Lance would have made sure of that, if not him than one of the others whom Lance’s big mouth would have informed. But the idea that Shiro, _his brother_ , told Lance about his pop’s death choked his heart. And not just his death, but the details… Keith’s involvement.

He shook his head, denying everything Lance had said, despite _knowing_ it was true.

He was alone. This damn conversation proved it.

Everyone’s been fed up with him for a while from Pidge’s glares to Allura’s short remarks to Lance shouting the biggest regret of his life straight to his face. He knew that they would tire of him eventually, but he has been delaying his departure, mostly because of the memory of Shiro begging him to join their group and slightly because of the hope that they would learn to--maybe like him--tolerate him. He has been referring to them as friends, but perhaps he had been wrong. He was now realizing that entering their group had been a bad call. He shouldn’t have trusted anyone, including his so called “brother.”

He trembled with regret as Lance continued to shout at him, his body tensing in rumbling emotions.

“ _Stop, stop, stop,_ ” he mumbled, tightly covering his ears to block out Lance’s voice but also the voice screaming within his head. Lance quieted for a moment before sharply shrieking in shock about how uncaring Keith was toward everyone, which was so far from the truth.

If only Lance knew how important this group was to him. There was a reason he didn’t truly want to leave and these people were the only thing holding him together at this point. He’s gotten used to the constant voices and laughter and though he wasn’t always part of the conversation, simply hearing the rise and fall of the others’ voices steadied him and his raging fire in a way that the constant bustle of the Leo Coven could never replicate.

However, Lance’s pitched shouting and angry snorts had the opposite effect. Keith desperately fought to keep his flames at bay in the torrent of insults and exasperated sighs.

“If you cared--”

“STOP!” he screamed, pulling at his black locks. Suddenly the clearing burst into flames, devouring the surrounding green grass and trees, bathing them in a violent array of reds. Lance cut off, gasping in instinctual fear.

Keith felt the dreaded tug in his gut so different from the pull his elemental magick soothed from him. He whimpered at the knowledge that soon he’d lose everyone.

The fire swirled around them, unpredictable and volatile--totally out of Keith’s control. He could distantly hear his name being called, but he focused on reigning in his flames to attempt to stop the upcoming burst of magick that’ll doom him to isolation and possibly Lance to a much worse fate.

As suddenly as the fire began, it dissipated, but Keith’s body seized in panic as Lance quivered with darting eyes scanning the clearing.

“Lance,” he rasped, before his gut tightened, knocking him to the ground. The beginnings of ash tasted upon his tongue. “Run, please, run…”

“Keith?” he lightly questioned, voice wavering. His voice bled confusion and worry tinged with slithers of regret. Lance saw Keith reverting to instinctual magick, a common occurrence when his emotions overwhelmed him, though more frequent when they had been at each other’s throats weeks ago. And oh, Keith wished that were the case.

Lance’s hand slightly reached out, but there was a hesitance in his stance, like he’d either run toward him or sprint back toward the trees. Keith desperately wanted it to be the former, to be embraced one last time, but he needed Lance to leave immediately, despite the ache in his chest.

Lance flinched at the bursting sound from behind him. Through unfocused eyes, Keith saw him whip around before choking on a startled breath as fiery bones rose from the blackened ground. He took a hesitant step back.

“Keith, what--”

Another jumble of bones appeared to his right, then to his left. More trembling bones continued to appear and slowly the flames stitched them together. Burning birds, squirrels, and other small animals appeared around the clearing, seemingly to rally around Keith.

Lance finally looked to Keith with scared, wide eyes.

“Please, run,” Keith coughed, the ashes coating his tongue and clogging his throat choking him. Lance jerkily glanced at a new pile of bones stitching itself together with Keith’s flames before shaking his head and looking warily at Keith.

“Necromancer… You’re a necromancer,” he accused, taking a step away from Keith. He flinched at the betrayal in Lance’s eyes, the way the shining blue hardened and dulled.

“I--I’m sorry. I didn’t--I never--” he stumbled, squeezing his eyes tightly before swallowing the smoke. “Lance, you need to go.” Another tug to his gut had him shooting his eyes open wide. “Now!”

Lance took a couple steps backward, glancing between the forming bones and Keith, not watching where he stepped. He tripped, landing hard on his back.

By the time he scrambled to his feet, the largest undead animal stood tall: a flaming peryton settled on the opposite side of the clearing, obviously staring Lance down. Its stained bones were stitched together by constantly moving fire that weaved and encapsulated them, expanding to the antlers of the stag and caressing the delicate bones of its wings. It pawed at the burnt grass, lowing its head in a threatening position. Lance makes slow moves, desperately attempting to pull water from the once humid air. The fire had dried it out.

From the ground, Keith watched with wide eyes. This couldn’t happen. Not again.

The peryton took an intimidating stance before charging Lance, who froze in its path, his mind devoid of ideas without the use of his water. Keith knew he was too dependent on his element but his mind screamed at him to do something--anything!

The peryton neared, head down and flaming antlers aimed for Lance.

Keith desperately reached for the magick tied to his gut. He couldn’t allow it to hurt Lance, despite what a _dick_ he could be sometimes. With a cry, he gripped onto his magick and willed the creature to stop.

Gasping for air, Keith watched astonished as the peryton veered off course, careening to the side and into a tree. Its flames burst next to Lance, who finally moved, launching himself backwards with panting breaths, sweat clinging to his temples. The crackling of fire filled the clearing only for a moment before the peryton extracted itself from the brush and ungracefully stood.

“Stop!” Keith screamed hoarsely. The creature stumbled but had no intention of halting. Slowly it turned to Lance, erriely stalking him with an unnatural gait that a peryton shouldn’t be able to accomplish with its lithe limbs and graceful feathers. It darted forward. Lance gasped and stumbled back defenseless. Keith’s mind ran wild with thoughts from the past.

He couldn’t allow another person to die because of him.

“No!” Keith shouted, throwing himself between the two. In an instant, fire burst forth from Keith’s hands, burning through his gloves and sizzling his flesh. He screamed as his flames consumed him and the peryton. For the second time in his life, the fire burned. His nostrils flared as he pulled and struggled with his magick, trying to capture an incorporeal force with nothing but his will. His knees hit the burnt ground with uneven thuds, as did the peryton’s, bowing its head in submission to its resurrector.

Keith focused on the flames. He stripped one layer after another of his magick, desperate to reach its source within the creature, to extinguish the peryton's newly given life. It was exhausting, yet exhilarating to have some semblance of control over this thing, this craft! Despite barely holding onto the deer’s actions, it was progress.

Through this process, Keith lost time, unsure of how much had passed between physically stopping the raging creature and burning out its last flame present within its ribs. His hands screamed in pain and he was panting like a dog and sweating like a pig.

His shock at his actions overshadowed the current situation he was in.

Until Lance’s breath hitched.

Keith’s head whipped around, the sweat slicked hair on his neck sending shivers down his spine. The other teen had his arms out in front of himself, in a placating gesture, but his face was hard, unreadable.

“Lan--” Keith began before his sweat instantly collected and squeezed around his neck, collaring him. He coughed at the pressure, collapsing over skeleton of the peryton and glancing up at Lance with confused glassy eyes. The witch’s fingers twitched in smooth movements. Lance was using his magick against him. But unlike during their harmless elemental shenanigans, Lance held murderous fury in his eyes.

It hurt Keith more than he’d care to admit.

“Don’t,” Lance said. “Just don’t.” He shook his head, momentarily looking away before snapping his eyes back to Keith-- _you shouldn’t take your eyes off a necromancer._ “You don’t get to talk anything unless I say,” he commanded, unconsciously tightening the collar.

Keith whimpered in response. The sweat seemed to boil alongside Lance’s temper. If Keith wasn’t on his knees before him, he’d make a joke. Something about traded personalities.

Lance shook his head, looking down with confusion coating his eyes.

“I just--I don’t understand, Keith,” Lance groaned, tensing his shoulders. “Why would you--I mean, necromancy? C’mon, Keith! How messed up are you, huh?”

“I don’t need a lect--”

“I said. Don’t speak,” Lance growled, boldly stepping toward him. Keith stared with wide eyes. Lance had always been dramatic, over the top at times, but the pure animosity that flooded his voice had Keith in shock. He would hurt him. Keith now understood. And as he had feared, his uncontrollable magickal destiny destroyed his relationships he had worked to form.

Lance’s fingers continued to twitch smoothly, now only one hand repeating the motion to keep the thin collar in place.

“Necromancy isn’t natural. It isn’t natural, Keith! I can’t believe you’re one of them!” Lance yelled to his face, tears forming at the corners of his eyes as if he was the one in pain, as if he was the one at Keith’s mercy, as if he was the one who just lost everything. He felt himself breaking at Lance’s words. “You’re a monster!”

Keith’s lip quivered, but he didn’t rebuke his statement. He knew the truth about himself and about his kind, though he’s never met another. Necromancers were abominations, things to be hunted and killed. He knew that before his magickal inclination was revealed and continued to believe it after. Silent tears trailed down Keith’s pale cheeks, leaving streams in their wakes.

“I knew you were different, but I couldn’t imagine this.” Lance grabbed his own hair, pulling and yanking in frustration. “And you were practicing, and continued to-to befriend us. To what? Let us care about you? Let us welcome you only to turn on us later? _Stars_ , I am so stupid not to see it before!”

Keith flinched as Lance threw his arms out. “C’mon! Got anything to say for yourself?” he spat, opening the floor.

“You’re right. About me being a… a necromancer, a monster, knowing all along. But you’re wrong about using you guys! Shiro, Hunk, Pidge, the Fae… you.” He shook out his long raven hair. “I never would’ve turned on y--”

“Were you not here when _your_ skeleton attacked me? Almost _skewered_ me?” Lance’s voice lowered. “Keith, you betrayed us the moment you met us.”

Lance stalked around Keith before jolting him forward with a push. The collar released, spilling the sweat to the blackened grass below Keith’s hands.

“I challenge you to an elemental duel,” Lance icily said from behind.

Slowly Keith stood to face Lance’s wet face. He shook his head, hesitant to make any sudden movements.

“No,” he said.

“You can’t deny a duel,” Lance growled. The tears from Keith’s face speared to Lance’s fists, swirling around his clenched hands. Keith grabbed his face and glanced to Lance’s, now dry as well.

Keith looked into his eyes, sensing the conflict but determination. Fear and anger overshadowed everything. Lance believed that he was worse than dirt, but that would never deter from the fact that he still knew him. They bickered and fought about stupid things from Keith’s hair to whether Hunk or Shiro gave the best hugs. Sometimes they got too heated, but other times they laughed together afterwards at the idiocy of it all. After he became comfortable with their group and their fighting subsided--for the most part--the two elementals clicked. Lance would cool Keith down when he started smoking and Keith would add fuel to Lance’s fires. They only had a few months together, enough time to say they had a past.

They were friends, no matter how much Lance denied it.

And it showed. Lance’s hands shook where the trembling water surrounded them and his eyes darted everywhere but Keith’s own. He knew that Lance didn’t want to do this, not truly. But he might have been doing it for the others, for their own safety, to keep him from hurting Allura and Coran, Hunk, Pidge, and Shiro.

Lance might have been ready to end him to save the others from doing so.

And Keith wouldn’t stop him.

“I can’t stop you from dueling,” Keith said softly, “but I won’t hurt you.” He took a stumbling few steps away from the teen, careful to keep his fire under control and to avoid scattered bones. Lance could do what he wanted. “I won’t.”

Slight hesitancy crossed Lance’s face, enough to know that Lance had once seen him as a friend. He smiled ruefully before sinking to his knees. If Lance wanted him gone, he wouldn’t stop him.

“What are you doing?” yelled Lance, taking a bold step forward. “Get up! Fight me!”

“No,” Keith said.

Lance’s blue eyes were enraged in a storm. He stalked forward, looming over him, who simply hung his head.

“You’re a damn necromancer! I don’t--” Lance shook his head. “You need to fight!”

“I don’t need to do anything,” Keith muttered, turning his shining eyes up at Lance. He licked his dried lips. “Can you… tell everyone I’m sorry? Okay?” He fisted the burnt grass with the blistered, scarred hands, hunching his shoulders inward. “I never asked to be a necromancer and I never…” He shook his head, trying to articulate the thoughts running rampant through his head--the flames, the screams, the corpse--but he was never one for words. “But I did. And I could again. I could hurt someone, so please just do what you need to do. I don’t want to hurt anyone, not anymore,” his voice cracked. He squeezed his eyes shut, releasing a torrent of tears that lifted from his face and collected at Lance’s fist.

If Lance needed ammunition, he had it.

Keith flinched at the wet, clammy fingers at his neck, hurriedly glancing up at Lance before his fingers tightened around the collar of his shirt, pulling him higher up on his knees. The water around Lance’s raised fist thinned out, collecting in his palm before extending out into a dagger.

Keith took in Lance. The high sun haloed his curled chestnut hair and extended to his sun-kissed shoulders. His freckles splattered across his nose shined against Lance’s reddened skin from the heat of Keith’s fire. The various shades of blue that cascaded over his chest never looked as vibrant, but they offset the stormy sea captured in Lance’s eyes.

Beautiful.

If Keith were to go by anyone’s hand, he was glad it was Lance’s. Shiro wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he ever gathered the courage to, but Lance could go on with the supporting thought that he saved his family in doing so. But Keith needed to rid the conflict swirling in those eyes, because any second thoughts, any regrets, would destroy Lance. He needed him to believe that killing him was the right thing. It was the right thing.

“I’m a necromancer,” Keith whispered, the coil in his gut releasing as he uttered those very words that he was unable to verbalize when Shiro had discovered what he was. “I’m a monster,” he swallowed. “I’ve… I’ve _killed_ before. A long time ago, but I did. And it’s unforgivable.” A sob caught in his throat as he placed his palm over his mouth to catch it. “I should… I should be with the rest of my kind, unable to cause harm to anyone. Lance, I want you--I need you to help me, because I’ve never been able to do it.”

Lance tersely nodded. He raised his dagger and Keith looked away.

Keith had determined that when he died it wouldn’t be easy, that he would fight for his life no matter the costs, because despite the raging hate directed at that part of himself, he knew how disappointed his pop would be if he didn’t. But at this moment, there was no hesitance in his acceptance. By Lance’s hand, he’d die without a fight.

Slowly, Lance’s fingers relaxed against his collar. Keith took a final breath, rattling his chest.

But Lance never brought his dagger down.

Suddenly the witch was kneeling with him, grabbing both of Keith’s shoulders with wet hands and sobbing to the ground below him.

“I c-can’t,” he cried. He shook his head. “Keith, I can’t.”

Keith’s eyes widened at the image of Lance breaking in front of him. He couldn’t comprehend that the witch threatening him beforehand, though with conflict, ultimately decided not to end him. Hesitantly, he placed his hands over Lance’s wrists in a twisted form of comfort: the one to be executed reassuring the executioner.

Lance whipped his head up, boring his eyes into Keith’s

“I almost--gods, Keith! I almost…” he tapered off, unable to say what could’ve happened, what was mere seconds away from happening. His body shuddered, pulling Keith a little closer.

“You should have,” Keith monotonously said, as silent tears threatened to spill down his cheeks.

“How could you say that?” Lance cried. “You encouraged me! You were just going to sit there!”

“I wasn’t lying,” he growled. Lance twisted his face. The evident disgust and confusion pulled tears from Keith as they finally over-spilled, streaming down his red cheeks. Snot quivered over his lips. “I wasn’t lying when I said I was a monster, that I have killed before--”

“ _Nonono_ , Keith you’re not--you can’t… I can get you help.” Lance lit up with a developing thought. “I can--we can! Allura, Pidge, everyone! We can help you.”

“You can’t help me!” he vehemently spat. The idea that Lance wanted to forcibly change who he was, despite trying himself all these years and failing all these years, ignited a fire in his gut.

“Yes, we can!” Lance desperately pleaded.

“You can’t fix me, Lance! This isn’t something you can fix!” he yelled, pushing Lance’s hands off him and throwing them to the ground. “Believe me, I’ve tried.”

“What do you mean? You don’t have to continue with this.”

“Don’t have to?” he asked incredulously. “What made you think that I wanted to ever be like this? To be unable to control this-this horrible ability? To be in constant fear of hurting someone?”

Lance floundered for an answer, mouth gaping open and brows furrowed in confusion, obviously not understanding the meaning behind Keith’s words. The fire blazing within him simmered. Lance truly didn’t understand the nature of his abilities. It made Keith sick to think that he almost died again because of a lack of knowledge.

“I’m not a necromancer by choice. It’s the same pull that any witch feels toward their preferred magickal abilities,” Keith quietly explained, rubbing at the wet streams drowning his cheeks.

“But that’s not…”

“Not what your coven taught you,” he said. “Well, welcome to the club. I thought the same until… ya know.”’

Lance visibly drew away and encircled himself with his arms as he thought over Keith’s words. “So your magick chose it?” he whispered. “You can’t… change it.”

Keith stared at him for a moment before glancing away, swallowing. He knew it would have come to this if he hadn’t been killed. “You want me to leave. I can leave.”

He began to stand before Lance grasped his wrist fiercely, though as his mind realized what his body had done, he quickly let go with a trembling hand. Keith hesitantly sat back down.

Lance shook his head, looking off into the distance. “No, that’s not--”

“ _Please_ , Lance,” he interrupted. “I see the way you’ve been looking at me. You’re scared. Obviously distrustful of me. Hell, you almost killed me.” He wiped the snot from his red nose. “I’ll leave.”

“No!” Lance yelled. Keith flinched back. “I’m confused, shocked… and yes, though you know I hate to admit it, I’m scared. I just need time to understand. Please, Keith, don’t leave,” he pleaded. “Help me understand _this_.” He vaguely gestured to Keith. It rubbed him the wrong way, having him feel more akin to an experiment.

“ _This_ is a fucking witch, not a damn animal for you to pick apart,” he roared, fists stinging from trendils of smoke swamping his burns as he stood. Lance scrambled back, quickly getting to his feet in a defensive position. “Look at you! You’re so goddamn scared of me.” He rubbed at the tears beginning to sizzle on his hot skin. “I can’t,” he hiccuped, pulling at his hair, “ I c-can’t keep hiding. It’s been so _damn_ hard. And all because of something I can’t even fucking control!” His arms lit up in flames.

“Keith--”

“No, Lance! I can’t keep hurting. Can’t keep hurting others. It’s better if I leave or better yet, die. You should’ve killed me. Why didn’t you kill me?” he whispers, clutching his chest as if it would burst. His heart hammered against it, revolting against the implication of more pain. The flames slowly died out, leaving his pale skin a light pink hue. “If you don’t want me to leave, then you should’ve killed me.”

“No, Keith,” Lance whispered and suddenly he was there, right in Keith’s space, hovering like he couldn’t decide whether he’d get burned by his skin at a touch. He hesitated a second more before engulding Keith in a hug. Keith only sobbed more, clinging to the blue cloth of Lance’s clothes, pulling him in tighter. Though all the yelling and threatening rested in the back of his mind, Keith needed this, a physical comfort, and Lance actually being concerned enough to embrace him, despite his fear of necromancy, had his heart soaring in ways little could make it do.

Lance clung on as much as Keith, digging his hands into his back and pulling him tight against his chest. They’ve never hugged like this before, so emotionally. It had Keith choking on another sob, wishing this moment didn’t have to capture his last physical touch.

But he had to leave.

Lance could barely handle the knowledge of Keith’s necromancy and he knew the others would react as badly or worse. For all the shit he gives Lance, he’s grown to be one of the most level headed in their group. Honestly, Keith couldn’t anticipate how they’d react. Lance threatened his life and almost took it; Their group would be thrown into chaos with this revelation.

Even Shiro, the most understanding being in this world, had a difficult time adjusting to the knowledge of Keith’s magickal inclinations.

Keith shivered at the memory of Shiro walking in on him practicing.

Lance tightened his hold, whispering reassurances and apologies in Keith’s ear. Keith regretted not listening, but his mind was occupied with memories of the past and thoughts of his uncertain future. He didn’t want to be concerned with anything at the moment. He focused on Lance’s touch, that is until he began to pull away with a small, albeit awkward, smile.

“I really am sorry,” Lance softly began, “and I really would like to learn more about… you and your abilities. I know I can be insensitive and blurt out words without filtering sometimes, but I hope you could forgive me.”

“I…” Keith had vaguely heard apologies during their hug, but people say things they don’t mean in tense, emotional situations; however, the way Lance held his gaze, completely willing him to listen and comprehend what he was saying and asking for, struck Keith. “It’s okay…”

“No, it wasn’t okay. And the way I reacted never will be,” he said, waving his arms around as much as he could with his proximity to Keith. “You don’t need to forgive me now, I honestly rather you not ‘cause I deserve a few days-- _stars_ , maybe even a few weeks--to suffer in guilt, but I hope one day you can.”

“You didn’t know,” Keith hoarsely said.

“Yeah, I didn’t know anything and I went off and started accusing you of betraying us when all you were doing was being a friend. I had a dagger in my hand and you on your knees! Holy stars, Keith!” he shouted dramatically. “I thought about killing you! Almost did. You know what, I take back what I said. I hope you never forgive me,” he finished with a huff, crossing his arms like a child.

Keith gave a weak chuckle at Lance’s antics. He’s never seen him act like an angry witchling toward _himself_ before.

“Well, you won’t have to worry about that soon. I’ll be gone by sundown,” Keith ruefully said.

“Wait, you’re still thinking about leaving? I thought we just had a moment,” he shrieked.

Keith tiredly rubbed his swollen eyes. “No, you just had a talking down with yourself.”

“Dude, we just cried it out in each other’s arms. How is that not having a moment?” he incredulously asked, eyes wide in shock. He waved his hands to clear the air. “Okay, okay. I’ll just forget our bonding moment. Let’s focus on you _not_ leaving instead.

“Lance,” Keith sighed exasperatedly. “I have to leave. Think of what the others would do if they found out like you did. You nearly killed me. Hunk might not have the nerve to, but we  know the girls would have no hesitation. And… and Shiro told you…”

 _God_ , that still stung.

“Woah, woah, wait. Shiro barely told me anything! After one of our bigger fights, when I said a few regretful things, he sat me down and explained why what I said had you running off instead of squaring up like usual… I just put a few things together after that, you know, with the whole…”

“Being an orphan.”

“Yes, being an orphan,” Lance said softly, like it was a cherished word instead of a condemnation. Keith internally sighed in resignation and relief. Shiro didn’t spill his extremely personal secrets, but it still hurt that he said anything about Keith’s past at all, though it eased him that Shiro did so with good intentions.

Lance was silent for a moment. “Do you really have that little faith in us?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like, do you believe that we could just toss you aside so easily? Yeah, I was ominously looming over you with a dagger, but practically the entire time the voice in the back of my head was screaming that my friend was hurting and that I was causing it. I overrated. I’ll own all my mistakes today, including pushing too much when I yelled at you about my hydromancy and causing basically all the shit that went down today.”

“You were just concerned--”

“I was, but I know you’ve been off this week and I still pushed. I even brought up stuff about your family,” Keith winced, the hurt still fresh, “and that wasn’t cool and never will be. But Keith, you’re part of this family. If you left, nothing would be the same,” he emphasized. Keith huffed disbelievingly. “Dude, you might have been a loner before meeting all of us. Might have had no impact on other lives, but you’ve been woven into all of ours for a while. Shiro’s your _brother_ first of all, do I even have to say anything else? Despite his hard muscles, man has a soft heart. Same goes for Hunk. He’d cry an ocean big enough for a full grown kraken if you left, period.” Keith snorted and it drew a soft smile out of Lance. “And who would heat up Pidge’s blanket at night? Or talk to her about the uselessness of social interaction? You _know_ not this social butterfly,” he emphasized by gesturing to himself. “Allura and Coran are a bit different, but they care about you immensely. Everyone does and always will, no matter your magick. You said it wasn’t a choice, that your magick called you to necromancy. Well, who am I to question the stars’ choice?”

“But what if--”

“Nope! Not even going there ‘cause there is no ‘what if.’ We are your family. We won’t abandon you and if the other’s give you shit, I got your back.”

 _Family._ “Thank you, Lance. Thank you,” he said wetly.

“No need for thanks,” he smiled, knowing some of his speech must have gotten through that thick skull of his.

“Okay, fine, I’ll stay.” Lance opened his mouth to scream in triumph, but Keith pushed on, very clearly shutting him down. “But I can’t tell the others. Not yet at least. Please, just give me some time to think about it. I already need to adjust to you knowing my secret. I don’t need--I don’t think I could handle everyone else’s reactions right now.”

“Yeah, yeah, of course, no necromancy talk from me,” Lance promised.

“Thanks,” Keith genuinely said.

“But I do have my own questions,” he hesitantly said. “If you don’t mind, I mean.”

“Well, considering you didn’t kill me, I’d say you’ve earned some answers.”

Lance blinked. ‘That is such a messed up way of putting that and we will talk about that more later, even if it does involve me begging on my knees for forgiveness.”

Keith snorted at the image conjured up in his head, a slight blush gracing his cheeks.

“I get that you have questions. But tomorrow. Tomorrow I’ll answer them,” he tiredly said.

“Right, emo edgelord can’t deal with an extreme emotional interaction over an extended period of time,” Lance mocked.

Keith raised an eyebrow before biting back, “You collared me and threatened me with a dagger made from my own tears.”

“Details, details.” Lance flippantly waved his hand through the air. “But seriously, I am truly sorry. You may forgive me one day but I may never forgive myself for almost killing one of my best friends. I think I could handle holding off my questions.”

“Oh, okay, good,” Keith stumbled, shocked. Best friend? That’s… well. It made happiness bubble up within him, along with hope. He stood and held out a hand to help Lance up. “Let’s head back to camp. Maybe Hunk and Pidge and the Fae are back, so I won’t have to go track them down in the forest again.”

Lance grabbed Keith’s hand, but he let out a cry, quickly causing Lance to flinch back.

“Uh, sorry,” Keith hissed, cradling his hand to his chest tenderly. “I--I got burned. Another question for tomorrow, I guess.” Confusion, worry, and curiosity flickered across Lance’s face. Keith’s flames never burn him, but as he looked at his hands, burns and blisters littered them, scarring the flesh.

“We need to get those treated and bandaged back at camp.” Lance stood on his own, brushing some burnt grass from his pants. “Huh, maybe we won’t have to go searching for everyone even if they aren’t back,” Lance mused. Keith simply raised an eyebrow as they began to walk out of the clearing. “I mean I felt like something bad would happen today and I think my overration at your magick would just about cover the scale for how bad the scenario felt beforehand,” he smirked. “C’mon, say it!”

“Say what?”

“Say that I was right. That something bad would happen today. That my hydromancy was on point,” Lance pridefully huffed out.

Keith rolled his eyes. “Fine,” he gritted to which Lance beamed. “Your hydromancy has a knack for being a pain in my ass.”

“Hey!” he squealed.

Keith still had his doubts, but maybe everything would be alright.

**Author's Note:**

> [follow me on tumblr!](https://basilbleu.tumblr.com)


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